User blog:GodOfNerds/Worm Fanon
World Two beings spiral through the void, past stars, and worlds. They dance through realities, shifting through other times, other dimensions. Countless facets that fuse, part, and shift as they journey. Approaching a worl they shatter. Shards falling into millions of alternate worlds to roots. Reaching out across the boundaries of dimensions they bond, empowering those they find. Those at their lowest. People who will fight, suffer, and strive, and in doing so drive the entities own evolution. But unlike the cycles before this something has gone wrong. a single mistake leads to the death of one of these entities. Only it's shards remaining as it's mate is left behind, shocked and insensate in it's mourning. As things stand now the worlds within the reach of these beings are now set on a painful and destructive course that will reap untold costs in human lives and suffering. No matter the choices and powers you possess in this world, no matter how strong or feared you are. Remember. Conflict is inevitable. Appearence History Hello. My name, is William King. And this is the story of how my life got turned upside down. In a good way. Maybe. It all started when I was a kid, or rather that's how "I" started, the person that'd one day became "me". I was always angry when I was little, a little too violent, a little too quick witted for my own good. For everytime I tried to do a good thing, or a thing that seemed right, it seemed as if the universe said "Stop it. Don't do that.", because for every time I helped a lady with the purse she dropped, for every time I tried to stop a fight, I always made things worse. I'd get called a thief and then chased by cops, I'd make the two more angry than they were at each other and then have to fight them both, you could say this put me on the path of my rules. Rule 1: "No good deed goes unpunished". Our entire lives we hear about them, we see them, we're told we should fear them, respect them, be like them. The fucking capes. The parahumans, the ones who experience something so traumatic, such a low point that something inside of them snaps, and that something made them grow a new part in their brain that helps them control the... Powers. From the few things I actually paid attention to in class, depending on the trauma, depends on the power you get. 12 categories or something, Blaster (long range), Striker (touch based), Master (controls), Breaker (shifts states or break the natural laws of the universe), Changer (change your form), Brute (strength or endurance), Thinker (mental capacity or some shit), Shaker (Has a power with an area of effect), Stranger (stealth or infiltration stuff), Mover (enhanced mobility, flight for example) and Trump are powers that relate to powers. Wait... That's 11... What's the last one? Eh fuck it, I'll mention it once I remember it. When they first appeared... When "he", Scion. A golden man flying around the earth 24/7 saving lives and fighting monsters. He seemed like a god. An actual god, not like the dude in the bible who just makes things happen, but rather the ones who seem all-powerful by their very presence. Everyone thought the "capes" were gonna be gods, the pinnacle of existance, then one idiot was killed with a bat when he tried to rob a store with telekinesis. And then it all pops into place. They're just like us but with powers. I've fought them though. Capes. It all depends on the power, how fresh they are, and how... How do I put it without insulting them too much... How smart they are. Even an idiot can take on an army with the right power, I've of course lost too such... Idiots. I wish I was a cape, I hate them, but I want their power. I put myself in dangerous situations because I wanna trigger. I once fought a fat guy, who I thought was gonna be easy, but... IT turns out the fucker had Pyrokinesis, and of course immunity to it. He lit himself on fire and procceded to pound me with flaming fists, hurts way more than you can imagine, but not even that triggered me. I still have the burn marks on my neck from where he tried to strangle me. Don't judge a book by the cover My dad passed away in cancer during this time, mom called me a dissapointment, a delinquent who favoured violence over talking and learning. She made it sound like I don't learn, I do. So. My parents think I'm a dissapointment, my mom has run into money problems, I'm a violent self-endangering lunatic who wants to experience the so called "Lowest point of their life", to become something more. So, school sucks because people fear me and the few who don't are simply acquaintances. Home sucks because mom yells at me, pesters me about the smallest things like not helping her with the laundry or such, which I admit is something that other people get yelled at for, doesn't mean that I deserve a bat to the door because of it. I could feel it all slowly build up on my psyche, as if my psyche is just the base of a jenga tower, but every single thing just makes it more and more unstable. My goal was long forgotten, it seemed as more of a subconsciouss thing driving me now. I was walking home when I got jumped by a old group of "delinquents" that I used to fight with, idk what they were thinking honestly I didn't care, still don't. I open my eyes a see a vision of two great Entities circling around each other. A shard breaks off from one of them and reaches out to me. Before I can even understand what is happening, I find myself standing on an unfamiliar street in the docks of Brockton Bay, my hometown. I can feel it. "Welcome to the world of capes" ---- Tinker! That's the last category. The ones who specialise in futuristic or alien technology, usually in one specific field, there are apparently so so so many different categories of tinkers however, waaayyy too long and complicated. Ones with only big projects, ones that only rebuild a single item over and over and over, ones who can only use a specific field and ones who can dip their "toes" or so to speak in every field. Apparently I'm a special little snowflake, obviously, I am what they theorized would be the ultimate tinker, Ok maybe I added ultimate, but I'm what you'd call a Free Tinker. A tinker that can build anything I dream off. Well it's a little more complicated than that but to simplify it, I get five charges every 24 hours and I can spend them to upgrade my tinker understanding in a specific field or item, for the first point I get a rating from 4-5 and with every next one I get 2 points. AKA with enough time I'll be the ultimate tinker, or rather a Free Tinker. So I don't have a rating in Trump, Breaker, Striker, Brute, Mover, Shaker, Blaster, Changer, Master, and Stranger, maybe I have Thinker, since I can keep track of these borderline infinite categories I can put my points in and Tinker since you know. Maybe I can be a Master category if I put my points into brainwashing techniques... It was last week that I triggered, when I almost died, when some stranger called 911 and a ambulance brought me to the hospital mere moments before I would have died if it wasn't for the doctors. It brought me hope to see that some of my acquaintances who almost killed me abandoned me, but a handful of strangers saved my life. There's some sort of fucked up irony there, maybe. It's not like you'd think, being a cape, the power that I have, allows me to understand, create, design and "control" futuristic alien technology and so much more, when I look at the machines around me I have a basic understanding of how they understand, but if I put my "mind" to it, I can see how they could be more efficient, how they work, how every wire, circuit and LED was placed and moved around, I can see how they could make machines that could practically "heal" people and then mass produce them for even the idiots around me to understand. It doesn't feel like I'm a god among men, it feels like I'm a human among bacteria, not that I am so much better than them, only that I... The broken, is the more evolved. The one who is ahead of the evolutionary equivalent of a curb. I spent a little over 12 days and 5 hours in the hospital. First I spent my focus and time on martial arts, so that's around a PTR rating (a rating of how much of a threat someone/something is, for example a self reproducing killing machine would be a Changer 10 maybe idk.) of 12 when it comes to martial arts, or at least the martial art I designed and formed in my head while stuck in that god forsaken bed. Which I have to say has given me a whole loot to think about, my old movements, when I recalled them, felt like watching a toddler run around in circles trying to figure out why they're not going anywhere. If I had to guess now I'd say I can take on all of the guys that jumped me with one arm behind my back, maybe that's just me being cocky, but I feel like anyone that isn't a cape should be a piece of cake to deal with. The rest of the "focus" were evenly divided between, augmentation (the practice of mechanical appendages), genetics, small fire arms, knives, body armor, and cloning. Now these might not seem like the smartest, or most thematic choices I could've made. These choices were made to outfit me into a super soldier, even though I am now a "tinkerer", that does not change my roots. I am preparing for a war, for the inevitable war against capes and the PRT. No matter what I do, I refuse to listen to others telling me what to do. I refuse to be the slave, I will be the conqueror. That's a pretty cool name for me... I'll think about it. I need a base so maybe that's next. Powers August 10th 2006 - August 23th 2006 William King the first Free Tinker. Rules * Rule 1: No good deed goes unpunished *Rule 2: Don't judge a book by the cover *Rule 3: Fuck what they think *Rule 4: Interludes - Stories from other peoples perspective He's gonna be here any second. ''Damn them for taking so long to clean, ugh, the time's already 9 pm? Time flies when you're having ''fun. The crystal white hallways are spotlessly cleaned, you can almost see your own reflection in the walls, maybe it was worth the wait. I rush to the mirrors in the entrance, I fix my jacket, it had been a little roughed up, my tie a little crooked and my mask just a few millimeters off, I love my job. I really do, after all I am my own boss, and nobody could ever tell me what to do. I fix the smallest details and remove my mask, it's more of a intimidation tool, I mean who wouldn't be scared when they heard my name, I look up at me again, and I can see how my mouth moves into a cocky smile, I try to stop it but it's impossible, I'm just too attractive. I mean seriously, this is the best damn work I've ever done, well almost anyone, but I did it to myself, not even the best underground surgeons could make you look this good without leaving a few scars. The doorbell rung and the harmonious sound echoed perfectly through the hall way. Damn I'm good. As the elevator opens there they are, my precious customers, a short man dressed more as a CEO if it wasn't for the silver/wood mask on him, the man known as Accord, a rogue, considered a villain. A thinker, quite a powerful one if what I hear is even half corre. Behind him is his two beautiful escorts Citrine in her yellow evening dress and mask adorned with precious jewels, and next to her on his left is Othello, another powerful cape, not quite sure what his power is but he sure knows how to dress, an elegant black suit with a black and white mask, his suit isn't too unfamiliar with mine, we do have the same tailor after all, Accord himself. A small discount on every job he pays for and I get a amazing suit every month, I have 26 now, I switch for every job, I feel like a school girl when I hear the package has arrived. Back to the topic at hand. "Welcome back Accord" I said, his mask shifts to show his smile, it's almost creepy how efficient he has made his masks to bend to his expressions. "Thank you Ignis Fatuus", there it was. My name, my title, my legacy. All sounds so simple but it's oh so complicated. I gestured for him to follow me, and he does, I keep my foot steps short, not short that they'll have to walk slow but enough that Accord gets to walk at his pace, right should be right, he is a customer after all. When we reach the lab I can see how Citrine reacts ever so mildly to the bodies being held in the test tubes around us, all floating almost weightlessly in the vats, all for show of course. With my power, I could make anything living or dead without the need for such shows, but I do enjoy the view, it is fun to see the bodies of my employees and enemies all around me hanging lifelessly. As we enter the lab, Blasto quickly stands up before arranging his workplace neatly, atleast he has learnt something, he has worked for me a little over a year now, his work is amazing even for a tinker, but his chaotic attitude is a burden, sloppy, when it comes to the more... Special customers, like Accord. Riley stays but only due to the fact that she's currently cutting open a customer on the other side of the glass, the man ordered a reinforced bone structure so that's what he'll get. Not that Accord needs to know we're cutting open a certain customer in the next room. Accord looks me in the eye "We've been working together for a long time now Ignis Fatuus, maybe it's time you show me the quality products.", of course I know what he means, what he's been getting so far are essentially just medium leveled capes with stranger or shaker classification, nothing extraordinary, but that's mostly because he hasn't asked for anything more, and partially because he wasn't thoroughly safe. After all, not everyone can pay, or afford to keep a high level cape with powers similiar to the ones revered as the top of the food chain in cape society. We enter through the next set of stainless steel doors, once again I feel oddly pleased with how stainless and mirror like they are, a small pride. The room is more of a "warehouse" than a lab, going by the sheer size of it, it wasn't easy, but I managed to eventually find and modify a dimensional manipulator cape to work for me, thanks to him we're a travelling company so to speak, since our base exists in multiple dimensions at once, allowing our "elevator" to go from a normal office building in newyork to a "warehouse" the size of a small town. The only thing stored here though was what looked like a small army of tinkers, which is what it was, it was a hassle but we eventually recruited "toybox" the blackmarket tinker tech. One third is currently occupied, I'm planning on expanding, but if I go too aggressive then someone might notice, someone might care enough to investigate or attack. He repeats his words again "We've been working together for a long time now Ignis Fatuus, maybe it's time you show me the quality products.", this wasn't something new to him, but the next part was. We moved to the right over the pathway over the tinkers into my office, a large room, black walls, a classy fireplace in the middle of the room on the right wall, a couch in the corner and a black desk for with one chair infront and one behind, Customers and mine respectively. The Desk was special made for me, it weighs a little over 5 ton, made out of wood and something else, tinkers made it, practically indestructible, and more than you'd expect a tool of power. I clear my throat as stealthily as I can and look him in the eyes, he's waiting for me to speak, I stay silent only to show that I control this. Not him. Not anymore. "What's your budget?" I asked it with a calm that even suprised me, this was one of my best clients, he had bought clones of his employees before, he only needed to say the word and I'd copy their genetic make up with a glance at them, it wouldn't be unfair to say I'm one of the most powerful capes in the world, if not the most. He looks at me as if I slapped him in the face, of course he'd feel offended, he's one of the most wealthy capes in the world, but I stress, not the most, I've had customers with practically bottomless pits of money. He regains his composure quickly, that's my boy, "2.6 billion dollars", the amount almost felt like a slap to my face. He'd at most spent 29.5 million dollars before, had he stepped up his game? Had he found a threat? The silence lingered for a while, before he opened his mouth, he knew I wasn't gonna reveal my hand before he showed me his. "I've seen that the Slaughterhouse Nine have become too extreme, they threaten my plan even more than usual. I need a triumvirate level cape, or more if I can afford it. I can pay more if neccessary." I see. The slaughterhouse nine, a group of homocidal maniacs who does what they want to who they want, breaking every spoken or unspoken rule in the meantime, there were of course nine of them, but it wasn't impossible for them to kill each other, in fact it happened a lot, but right now. One of the nine was my own little "project" or at least an old one. Not that any of it mattered in the face of 2.6 billion dollars, what had I spent to make him? What? Half a day with my full attention and some tea? 26 dollars at most? Sounds right. I almost laughed that the numbers alligned so that it was one for every 100 million dollars. "The products we offer can be anything from a dog with a longer lifespan, to a army of triumvirate level capes. Of course the price escalates quite dramatically with the level of their powers. Their lifespans are also included in the price, for a one day army with a one week lifespan it might be 1/100th of what it might be for that of a one year life span. Of course any price can have a discount, for a price. Now, since you obviously have a plan, tell me what, who and when you need them." The smile on his face was back, but I couldn't neglect to mention that so was mine, I loved using my power, I could use it for free. Could've. I was labelled a S-Class threat before my garden of eden was destr- "Three capes, Triumvirate level if not higher, one tinker with wavelength speciality, one with shifting powers adapting to the situation and one with "flying brick" power pack", he interrupted my thoughts, annoying. He was asking me to recreate the triumvirate from the beginning... With the exception of their original leader, Legend, of course. I see, he wanted to tailor them like he tailors his employees, into flawless rogues without the original flaws. Damn he was clever, he could probably have already guessed, but I felt mischevious, "That'll be a tough order" Not really. "2.9 billion dollars." I could see his eyes flicker for a moment, was he angry at the price? No. He knew me too well for anything like that to suprise him. Ahh, suprise that I didn't hesitate to make something that ''dangerous, or that I could make something ''that dangerous. Either way I probably jumped the gun here... We shook hands on it and he left, he never said a time limit so the regular time limit is it for now, one month from now. I can feel the timer in my mind ticking down, less time for each second wasted, not that I need that much time to make the triumvirate whole again... Or did I? Challenges are always fun. *1 month later* I almost felt proud, not like with the doors and tiles, but like a father or a painter showing off his paintings, this was my art after all, my creations. Calling them clones is a little too insulting for my taste, but that's also why I chose my name. A falce deception of me, if you show them fancy bio-tinkers, and then "copy bodies" they'll naturally assume they made them, naturally assume that I'm just their boss, nothing useful in this process. Damn I'm clever. One of them, "Apocalypse" as I nicknamed her, not that Accord would ever find out, was a tall muscular woman with gorgeous long dark hair, her skin was practically shining, and no matter how "soft" it looked, when you tried to touch her, or injure her. It was unyielding, firm. A bit too firm. She was the clone, if you want to call them that, of Alexandria, the physically strongest cape in the world, in my tests Apocalypse can at least lift 1.5 million tones. My technology isn't advanced enough to test beyond that, invunarbility, super strength in the most literal sense and flight at hyper sonic speeds. The next was a originally rather skinny man, with less than average looks, big nose, thinning hair and heavy cheeks. Quite hard on the eyes, so I made him better, made his body more muscular bot nut bulky, more streamlined, his hair thicker, his nose smaller and better shaped for his face, giving his entire sense not that of a "pretty" person but rather a face that was more symmetrical, pleasing to look at. His powers adapted to the current events and allowed him to survive and thrive against most if not all odds, if we compare his powers to the most recent ones of Eidolon it almost seems as if my Eidolon was stronger. And last but not least, the moderetaley young looking man with thick golden hair and crystal blue eyes, if I was more empire eighty eight man I'd say I found the perfect aryan. This was "Hero"s copy, his powers enhanced slightly further, or we think, it's hard to compare it to a tinker who is long dead. But his work has amazed me, I'll probably make a few for my toybox after this. wasn't exactly pretty, but it was pleasing to a special customer like Accord, who needed, symmetry and order or he'd go mad. Something about his passenger, maybe a second trigger before he realised it? Doesn't matter. He accepted them and I accepted 2.9 billion dollars, fair trade. When they left through the elevator I could see how Othello and Citrine almost looked uncomfortable standing among three of the four most famous capes to have ever existed, and most powerful for that matter, not including me of course. As they left I could feel the weight being lifted off me, and I asked my lovely secretary for my mask, I had asked her to keep it so I could focus on my work. The mask I had made from my old self. ''The mask was modeled after a plague doctor mask, the only difference was that this one's transition to me was smoother, more elegant, I switched my clothing from my exceedingly expensive suit to my costume, my armor, my ''true self. The black jacket, with the hoodie up covered my head only allowing my mask to peek out, and the only thing reflecting light inside was the glass from my mask, my entire outfit is black, it always will be from now on. It is me. This is my reward for keeping in check when he was here, a reward given to my by the person who understands me the best, me. It's started as a patchwork mask with a crown, it was so sloppy, so dirty, so unappealing. Not my style, at least not anymore. It was infuriating to think that I had made something so, second class. But even back then I had used my power to create my art, before I started running out of protein for my creations, not a problem anymore. I don't know if I could've fix it myself or if I should thank them, but I also hate them. They say the world is ending in a few years, I hope not, but nobody will ever catch me unprepared again. I walk through my long hallways till I reach the warehouse, I keep walking, most of them are too focused to even notice me, and the few who do are more terrified than curteous, I wouldn't blame them, I'm not Ignis Fatuus now, I'm Ignis Fatuus, the hero or villain depending on your viewpoint who destroys what crosses his path with no mercy, that's the image I have built, it is useful, I am my own heavy-hitter, after all, who could be better at me than to know who to put in their place? They're cocky with me and they have to deal with Ignis Fatuus if they are too disrespectful. This is it, the door infront of me doesn't look like a door, it looks like a wall, the wall of a warehouse, behind it I have my own art, the ones I'm saving for the eventual end. My own army of triumvirate level capes, it's taken longer than I'd hoped but now I have it, 200 capes, each one with powers on a comparable level to the top. If I can't control them when the time comes it might just be the end, but I can. I have to. I've never had problems controlling them before, never did, but they weren't this sentient, not this aware of everything... NO. I can. Stop worrying. My watch lights up as I see that a customer has requested my help, tch, my fun will have to be put off for now. I rush to the office and switch out my armor for my suit, as I enter the entrance to wait for the customer I realise my secretary looks at me funny. Do you want to die? Oh no wait, I'm still wearing my mask... I hand it to her and thank her for pointing it out in a roundabout way. The doors open and a man in a tight black bodysuit with a snake coling around his body until it reaches his forehead. "Welcome back dear customer" --------------------- "I could take the mask off... Should. She'll take offense to it..." I voice my inner thoughts before I realize what I'm doing. "It'll be fine boss, she won't mind." John and his ever present optimism still astound me sometimes. As we enter the room and I see her, I see it instantly, her face going from emotionless to wrathful. Damn. "Hello Skitte-" she interrupted me before I finish "Take the mask off. When you're speaking to ME." I could hear the raw emotion in her voice, it wasn't fair to see her at a time like this, not after how our last talk ended. I know it, she knows it. But I can't focus on my own life... I never get to focus on my life. "Boss was recently hurt in a fight, he's simply-" More wasn't said before we could hear the buzzing of what seemed to be a million wasps, it's horrifying really. "Take it off, when you speak to ME." She sounded calmer now, maybe that's why they were so loud, she offloaded it on them. I hurried to take off the mask without "hurrying", making me look a little bit more calm than I am. My right cheek and forehead sting as I remove it, but what stings more is the horror on her face when she sees it... This isn't what I wanted, secrets? From her? Never a part of the plan. The emotions back, the calms gone, she has tears in her eyes. It's all your fault Thomas. Damn it. "Leave us." My team didn't need to hear more, John leaving first with Robert right after. Good guys. Grue and Rachel take longer to leave, this was supposed to be a meeting after all, not a reunion, she brought her heavy hitters. It took her sometime, but after a few more seconds or was it minutes? Time is excruciatingly slow when your loved ones are sad. Her swarm told them to leave, it was intidimating yes, but she couldn't sound authorative in this state. When they all left I practically threw my arms around her, I could feel how my face stung after I hit the ground so I could hug her on her level. We sat there for a few minutes before she could speak. "Who?" Of course I know what she meant, she wanted to know who did it. "Doesn't matter." My voice sounded, calm, more calm than I probably would've been, if it hadn't been for what happened to the person who did this to me. Fucker deserved what he got. "Yes it does." She sounded angrier now, more upset, maybe infuriated that the large crimelord of Brockton Bay couldn't even keep her boyfriend from getting his face scarred up. "He's dead now." Her head whipped up so fast I thought she'd get whiplash. "I didn't kill him, sadly." She seemed to relax a little at that, but she also noted that I added sadly. Damn, sloppy. My hair covered my eyes, or well the one eye that could remain open due to the bandage. She noticed and adjusted it, did she have bugs on me right now? How many? Did she master using their senses? Can she feel my a million different ways without needing to look at me? I'd be pretty effective intimidation, it is pretty effective intimidation. I know. I kissed her. I wanted to, I craved it. Her smile, there it is. It's intoxicating. "Clare-" she seems so much smaller now, this is Taylor not Skitter. "Thomas when I'm not wearing my mask, and even then Clarent is my old name you know?" "Ruthless sounds too evil Thomas." "Yeah that's the point, I want to show them what happens when they press us too hard. When they treat us like products when we're humans." "Parahumans" I gave her a glance, trying to be smart or helpful? I can't tell anymore, am I losing my ability to read expressions? No, nothing to suggest that. "Your new costume is so..." "Anti-Government?" "More like Budget. I mean it's essentially the same suit but instead of white it's black and instead of gold it's silver." "small changes to remain the same and still be different." "Budget" I couldn't help but chuckle, she sure sounded like Alec, or Aisha. "Budget" I replied with a small smile that stung my cheek. There it was, the excess of energy that makes me uncomfortable, I reach out for my breastplate and feel it flood into it, I feel how it becomes filled and then slowly level off in the few minutes to come. One more charge for the breastplate then it's gonna be at the 20th charge. One more power, one more asset in the war against the PRT. I almost miss Dr. Yamada, her therapy always helped, now I have Taylor, but there's things you can speak about with your therapist and not your girlfriend sadly. There's a thump on the door behind me, not the way a knock would sound, but like- John flies through the wall, his face covered in blood and his metal armor ripped apart. Fuck. "Found you Ruthless", of all the supervillains in Brockton Bay I have to fight the one that's practically a moving and talking chainsaw? "Hookwolf. What are you doing here." It wasn't really a question and more of a Get the fuck out, shit my mask was off and so was Ta- Skitters, my body covered her enough though, he doesn't see her, good now it's on for her. Only my identity being risked, now if we just take care of him... "You do know you won't survive this don't you?" That made him chuckle, I'm gonna destroy him. "Ruthless. Such a bad name for someone like you who can barely harm a civilian, how are you Clarent gonna hurt me?" Tsk. I hate him. I know his "core" is incased in metal, but how do I kill him... My Arcsword? Yeah, it's my safest bet. It has over 40 charges, I skipped the shield that they recommended after all. It all became focused on attack and a durable armor. "We both know only one of us is leaving here alive Hookwolf. If you turn back now I'll spare you." I do my best to emit my confidence, I know I can win. I just don't know how. "Hmph, Skitter... You were, unaccounted for." His eyes trail over her, he knows how scary she can be, he knows how scary she is. I can't tell if Johns breathing, is Robert ok? Fuck. I unsheathe my Arcsword and I feel it, it's an extension of me. It's power giving me the boost I need, I feel my legs moving me forward before immunity to the laws of physics, for example, all my armor is as heavy as normal clothing while actually being a tinker made material, no technology of course, too annoying to charge the pieces. But I am a walking fortress with the speed of a scout. My arcsword can pass through inorganic material, allowing me to take down enemies hidden in armor, but does Hookwolfs metal body count as inorganic or not? The sound of metal striking metal answered that question. Or did it? My sword got half a meter into his body before it stopped, does only the metal in his original form count as organic? Manton effect. Damn. Better than nothing. I jump back and update Skitter, I see how the wasps gather on him trying to sting his eyes, blocking his sight at least. But, now I can't strike him without taking out a portion of wasps for each swing... Strategically placed strikes are needed then. I feel the blade elongating and I strike his "neck", the metal sound echoes through the warehouse again, but I feel as if though I chipped off some metal off his neck, it's quickly healed but that's stil damage done, it'll build up and crash his calm. Thank god he's a meele range fighter while Skitter can work at almost any distance, this is gonna be f- His body ejects multiple hooks, too many to count and too few to be called his entire body, each attached to a chain... Did he grow? No... He's simply matured with his power. His sudden change in velocity was horrifying, but he didn't move forward towards us, he started spinning, he looked like a hurricane of metal, before I could react, I was struck by a claw and thrown at least 70 meters. I know I didn't need to, but I still yelled out a warning for Skitter. If it's her she can handle it. I look up and realise how wrong I was. Her body's torn to shreds infront of my eyes. I feel a primal rage build up, or rather a mind numbing subconscious scream. Two entites weaving themselves into and out of realities, they're moving forward. Or? I can't tell but before I can notice it, It's a blurry memory and I'm back to my dead lover. I feel the excess energy, so much, it's painful, no longer just annoying, but as if I'm being tasered. I offload all of my energy subconsciously into my armor, and it goes breaker. The entire thing just becomes charged, I needed at least 7 charges for that... Did I have that much charge? No. I've never had that? Did I second trigger? I didn't ever think I would or could. His eyes go wide, I know it, I can see, how? Armor? Probably. His arms are cut off, did I? Yes, I did. He stopped moving, did I? No. I'm still tearing him apart, is that blood? His, not mine. Why do I feel so... Not in control? My power? Yes, but my power power or what my power did to something else? No. It's my helmet, Auto-Pilot? Not suprising. I have to consciously shut it down to move like me again. I can't turn around, I know she's there, but I can't face her, I failed her. They failed her. We all failed her. I pick up John who feels suprisingly light and head off, Robert is also laying there, his right arm is missing, but not dead. I pick him up too. This is not the end. The villains don't get to play cops and robbers anymore, it's time they face real justice. It's time they face my justice. Category:Blog posts